


Breathe In, Breathe Out (I Love The Way You Move)

by leashy_bebes



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-21
Updated: 2010-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:03:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leashy_bebes/pseuds/leashy_bebes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for the prompt of 'Arthur makes Merlin wear a corset laced too tight for him to breathe properly while he fucks him up against a wall' <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/kinkme_merlin/13287.html?thread=10872295#t10872295">here</a>, so breathplay, forced feminisation and a smidgen of dub con (blink and you'll miss it).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe In, Breathe Out (I Love The Way You Move)

Merlin's first instinct is to ask where on earth Arthur found the dark blue corset. But really, he's the prince, he can do what he wants, and Merlin's finally starting to learn that there are some questions it's not even worth asking. He says no at first, instinctively, taken aback by the rigidity of the boning, the unmistakeable femininity of the garment itself. Arthur just raises his eyebrows a little, a doubtful expression on his face.

"Are you _scared_ , Merlin?" he asks, and Merlin splutters out a denial, grabbing the first opportunity he can to flee from Arthur's room.

He doesn't get far before the usual ridiculous desire starts making itself known. It's not so much that he wants to _please_ Arthur – because the prat has enough people around him who seem to exist just to make his life easier or happier – it's more that he doesn't want Arthur thinking he's set some impossible challenge that Merlin's too scared to face. And Merlin is perfectly aware that it's a fine line between accepting the challenge and just _giving Arthur what he wants_.

No, he decides abruptly. He is absolutely not doing this. Arthur calls him a girl often enough as it is, and Merlin _hates_ it. The last thing he should do is give Arthur an excuse. In fact, that's probably the only reason Arthur suggested it, because he knows it makes Merlin cringe, and he thinks there's no way Merlin would ever have enough guts to go through with it.

Five minutes later he's back in Arthur's room, his arms folded across his chest, glowering at Arthur and saying,

" _Fine_."

Five minutes after _that_ , he's naked, arms braced against the mantelpiece while Arthur fits the corset around his body. Merlin closes his eyes and wonders exactly how they've managed to end up here, like this, permitting each other far too much. He can feel Arthur tugging at the laces of the corset, lining it up carefully before he starts tightening it.

It's not too weird at first but then Arthur pulls harder and yes, okay, definitely strange now. It's so tight, constraining, and he can feel it changing his shape, forcing curves upon his skinny frame. It's not long before Arthur makes his approval known, mouthing at the nape of Merlin's neck and breathing rough, low curses, settling one hand on Merlin's waist, greedily clutching at the exaggerated curve.

"Ar – Arthur – " Merlin manages to say.

"A little tighter, hmm?" Arthur asks, and his other hand, still holding onto the corset's ties, tugs sharply. Merlin would swear he could feel the breath forced out of him.

"Arthur, that's too much, I can't – "

"You can," Arthur counters, his tone leaving no room for argument. Merlin's breath is already shallow and Arthur's hand lands on his lower back, pushing him forward a little. Merlin drops his head between his arms, and he can feel himself flushing because this is ridiculous, humiliating, completely ludicrous, and he's just _letting_ Arthur do it, just for the pleasure of hearing Arthur's voice go smooth and wicked like hot honey, just for the knowledge that it's him, Merlin, that drives Arthur over the edge like this.

When Arthur's finished tying the laces, they actually feel a little looser than they had in that almost terrifying moment when Arthur yanked them so tight. It's still pretty far from comfortable, but it's enough to take the edge of the panic that had been wanting to build. Arthur's hands both settle over his waist this time, pulling him back roughly so their bodies are in alignment. Arthur squeezes, and his large hands are just able to span Merlin's waist like this, pulled in tight as he is.

Arthur is still fully clothed, warm and solid, while Merlin feels insubstantial, controlled in the most basic way, his breath shallowed and shortened at Arthur's whim. Arthur sways just a little, Merlin held snugly in his arms, a parody of a dance. His hands stay on Merlin's waist but they grope and grasp so hungrily that it feels like they are everywhere. When Merlin can't contain a helpless little noise, Arthur laughs against his ear, and he sounds just as breathless as Merlin, but giddy with it, excited by his own cleverness.

"Turn around," he says, and Merlin does.

Arthur takes a step back and looks him up and down. Merlin knows the exact moment Arthur notices that he's half-hard already, because his eyes darken, appreciative and dangerous all at once.

"Yes," he says offhandedly. "Oh, _yes_. Bed. Now."

Merlin bites his lip and nods, but he doesn't even manage to step around Arthur before he's pulled into a devouring kiss, Arthur's hands roaming freely now, across his back, through his hair, down to his arse, whatever it takes to get Merlin as close as he can. Merlin is used to giving as good as he gets but he _can't_ , bound up in this stupid thing, and before long he's reduced to just gasping against Arthur's lips, sprawled against him. He can feel just how much Arthur likes this, and if the physical evidence wasn't enough, he'd swear he can taste Arthur's arousal, roaring and rising and possessive.

" _Bed_ ," Arthur says, as though Merlin's the one making that impossible, and Merlin rolls his eyes, shoving half-heartedly at Arthur's chest. Arthur just laughs, and Merlin turns away, heading towards the bed. He can feel Arthur close on his heels and again, Merlin doesn't make it all the way there before Arthur stops him. He apparently has enough presence of mind left not to slam Merlin face first into the wall, but it's a near thing.

He ruts unashamedly against Merlin's arse, gasping incoherently into his shoulder, and Merlin pushes back. The bed is _right there_ , and a damn sight softer than the wall, but Arthur just says, "Fuck. The way you _move_."

He sounds so far gone that Merlin's really in no fit state to complain after that. Arthur keeps one hand splayed flat on Merlin's back, his palm hot in the gaps between the corset and the lacings. There's a brief frustrated mutter before it's Arthur's bare cock pressing against his arse instead, hot and stiff, and then smearing deliberate wet trails across his buttocks. Merlin's face _burns_ when Arthur knees his legs wider apart, the head of his cock dragging between Merlin's cheeks and he gasps and rests his forehead against the cool stone.

"Arthur, you have to – "

"Yeah," Arthur says distractedly, and from the corner of his eye Merlin can see him staring, just _staring_ down, between their bodies for a long moment before he jolts and reaches out, fumbling in the cabinet by the bed for oil.

Merlin closes his eyes and waits and _God_ , given the mood Arthur is so clearly in, he wasn't expecting a long slow build up, but the oil is still cold when Arthur works a finger into him. Merlin grumbles and Arthur says something into his shoulder again, that might be apologetic and might be dismissive. Either way, he slows down, waits until Merlin is pushing back into the pressure before he adds another finger, then another, fast now, muttering encouraging filth into Merlin's ear.

There's a long, weighty pause after Arthur's fingers withdraw, and Merlin tries to steel himself, because even just that, writhing on Arthur's fingers, was enough to leave him breathless and almost light headed. If Arthur actually manages to fuck him unconscious, Merlin knows he will never hear the end of it. In the end, his efforts are for nothing, because the first deep, deliberate stroke of Arthur's cock into him knocks all the breath out of Merlin and from there it's just _impossible_.

Arthur is too big, too hot, too _everywhere_ , and the stupid fucking corset is too tight. Merlin claws helplessly at the wall, trying to gain purchase just for a moment, just enough to breathe properly, just once.

"What if I made you wear this all day?" Arthur asks. "Trussed up like a tart for me under your clothes all day long." He bites Merlin's shoulder as he says that and Merlin can't even make a comeback at all, let alone a witty one, because he's focused too intently on just _breathing_. He feels like he's getting about half as much air as usual, if that, and every time Arthur moves he wants to gasp but he _can't_.

Merlin is painfully aware that he's hard, aching, slick, and when Arthur finally moves his hands from Merlin's narrowed waist, he won't be able to help noticing. And like Arthur's the one with the magic, like he can see through the back of Merlin's skull into his very mind, he does just that, a throaty groan ripped from him as his hand plays over the full proof of Merlin's excitement.

"You love it," he says harshly into Merlin's ear, his hand working over Merlin's cock, brutally good, twisting each time he reaches the head and Merlin is – he is – he can't breathe, not really, and Arthur is relentless, forcing pleasure higher and Merlin wants to scream but he can't even speak, can't waste the air because his head is spinning.

His orgasm is a shock to both of them, and Merlin feels like it punched its way out of his body, leaving him wrung out and helpless, so bad his legs start to crumple. Arthur's hand is hard on his waist though, pulling him up, the other tangling in his hair to pull his head back. He leans his head on Arthur's shoulder, and it's easier to breathe now he's spent himself, easier to ride out the feeling of Arthur, still so hard inside him.

Arthur only gives him a moment before he nudges Merlin forward again, pulling his hips back so he's bent low, and he can _feel_ the unnatural tapering of his waist like this, more than he could before. It will ache, and it's undeniably strange, and it's _good_ , that's the strangest part of it all. Arthur cuts off all possibility of thought with a slow, deep roll of his hips. Merlin manages an _ah_ , lifting his head slightly before letting it drop between his arms again.

" _Look_ at you," Arthur says greedily, "Such a filthy little thing, pressing that tight arse back for me. Yes, _yeah_ , like that you little – _mmm_..."

The words drift off quickly, replaced by near-pained grunts as Arthur starts fucking him in earnest now, and Merlin's only slightly shocked to feel new stirrings of arousal licking through him. Without warning, Arthur winds his fingers through the laces and _tugs_ , and this strange noise is forced from Merlin's throat, shocked and weak. Desperate, he holds his breath and Arthur doesn't let up the pressure as he thrusts again and again into Merlin's body, or as he press his palm hard to Merlin's flat stomach, doesn't let up until he comes with a hoarse shout.

His weight bears Merlin into the wall and the air fills with Arthur's harsh breaths, Merlin's brief aborted pants, until Arthur's fingers pluck clumsily at the lacings, and air returns to Merlin's lungs like a blessing.


End file.
